#but kudos to you having the balls to write this

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

[sowthetide]

Update 9/15/23 - New Chapter on Sunday!

Hey y'all! I'm back ;-)

To my shock, it's actually been a very productive month! Chapters 27 and 28 are finished (and chapter 29 is halfway there, but I know where I'm going with it). I also went back and reviewed chapters 1-10, which is something I've been meaning to do for a while.

My writing has improved a lot since starting this fic, and I've been itching to go back and rewrite/tweak those early/unbeta-ed chapters. I rewrote chapter 1 a few months back, but I just rewrote chapter 2 this last week and I'm much happier with it. The rest of the chapters were thankfully less terrible than I remembered, so I only had to clean them up a bit. With that in mind, I highly recommend a re-read if you've got the time! The rewritten chapter 2 is way more intense and it gives a bit more character to Alannys, who will continue to be fleshed out in coming chapters.

Chapter 27 will be posted this Sunday, and we'll hopefully be back to weekly updates for a while after that. Fair warning, chapter 27 will be pretty emotionally intense, but hopefully also somewhat cathartic. After that, we'll be wading more into ironborn culture and politics as Westeros continues to fracture and fall apart.

As a final note, I've got a couple character playlists y'all might be interested in. I highly recommend listening to the Lanny playlist while reading this newest chapter on Sunday, it absolutely wrecked me lol. I've also had a Quen playlist simmering for a long time, so feel free to check it out!

the kraken's daughter (Quen)

the woman who waits (Alannys)

See y'all on Sunday!!

[quadrantvacillation]

my upstairs neighbours be doin Upstairs Neighbour Things (TM) and i just wanna write porn

[marigoldenblooms]

An Important Lesson - One-Shot

Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint. 

A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!  Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)

Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.  Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~ 

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were. 

Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad. 

You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long,  And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?

Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date. 

As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------

Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam. 

“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?” 

You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.

------------------------------------------

“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces. 

You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”

Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”

“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”

“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”

“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat. 

“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.

“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?” 

You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat. 

“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer. 

“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that. 

“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”

“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.

Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.

Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-” 

You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it. 

“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again. 

“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?” 

If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”

“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk. 

“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.” 

Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes. 

And your secret?

You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.

[astarion-approves]

Astarion resting in the evening with a reader with chronic pain/disability pain??

Literally your writing makes me so giddy ❤️✨✨ kudos to you OP for being fantastic as descriptions and dialogue!!!!

Astarion x GN! Tav with chronic pain

Safe for work, chronic pain, gender natural reader, 3rd person, 900+ words, SPOILERS ACT ONE, short and sweet, slightly OOC Astarion, no beta, (I DON'T have chronic pain so my apologies if this is way off the mark, I hope you enjoy it.)

Read below or on AO3

--------------------

Another fireball hits your shoulder, nearly knocking you to the ground from the force of it. The other party members glance in your direction, just making sure you haven’t fallen from the attack. The Hag’s wicked laugh rings in your ears as she continues her fight, gusts of wind and more flames flying towards you. 

Your body aches, the meat of your muscles shaking, each movement like a million blades being stabbed into your skin. It takes all of your effort to keep standing, each attack from Auntie Ethel bringing you closer to your knees. 

Shadowheart defends against her, casting a quick healing spell in your direction – just enough to keep you on your feet. 

For now. 

As Gale and Shadowheart chase after the Hag you will your body to move, to follow along with them and take her down. Your breath is unsteady, pain shooting up your limbs and to every joint in your body. 

“No,” you mumble, stumbling forward but managing to keep yourself standing. “Not now. Please, not now!” A flare up, the never ending pain that curses you each and every day. Something that even the tadpole can’t remove from you. Fire licks up your spin, the pain spreading and moving to control you. You fall to your knees, reaching out towards Gale and Shadowheart as they land blow after blow onto the powerful Hag. 

And you can do nothing but watch. 

You clench your jaw to keep yourself from screaming out in agony, to keep yourself from cursing the God’s that gave you this cruel fate. For what kind of God would ever deliver upon you the work of a Devil? You’ve made no sinful deals, no murder of the innocent, earned no curse from the evil that wanders in this world. 

No–

You are simply doomed with pain that you can never evade. Pain that will chase you and consume you for the rest of your days. 

“Tav,” Astarion is next to you, his hand on your back, sweeping up and down your spine with as much gentleness as he can muster. “Are you alright?” 

You shake your head, the battle carrying on just in front of you. Shadowheart cries out as she’s hit in the stomach, Gale jumping to help her off the ground just as another ball of fire is cast in their direction. 

“Astarion–” you gasp as the pain takes over, finally pulling you into the ground. 

Astarion shushes you, his hand leaving your back and instead carefully lifting you from the ground and into his arms. He rushes from the battlefield, placing you down behind a thick tree truck, a soft smile across his lips. “Now, you just stay right here. I will be right back after we’ve taken down this nasty little Hag. Rest.” 

And then he’s gone, the twang of his bow being shot over and over lulling you into a deep sleep. 

—-----------------------

You wake with a groan, blinking your eyes as you stare up into a deep red fabric that hangs above you. Slowly, you sit up, hissing at your body stings all over. You look around you, books thrown about and a large assortment of pillows all over the ground. 

Astarion’s tent. Then that means– 

“Ah, no, stay right where you are,” Astarion said as he waltzed into the tent, carrying a bundle of fabric in his arms. “Lie back down, darling; before I make you.” 

“The battle–”

“Is over, and we all survived. Goodie.” 

“Mayrina-”

“Alive and well. Now, hush,” Astarion said and gently pushed on your shoulder, forcing you to lie back down. He sat down beside you, opening the fabric he held before and revealing a large pile of ice. Astarion hummed as he laid a blanket over you and then began placing piece after piece of ice on top of you. 

“Ice?” you asked. 

“Hm, yes. What is the point of having a Wizard in our camp if he can’t conjure some ice for us?” 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Astarion raised a single brow at you, as if the answer were obvious. “You’re in pain, are you not?” 

“Well, yes–” 

“And while that Hag was a powerful creature, I know a fireball like that wouldn’t be enough to put you on your ass. Not normally, that is.”

“But–” 

“But, nothing.” Astarion sighed and poured the rest of the ice over your legs. “Honestly, Tav. Why didn’t you tell me you were in pain sooner? I could tell that morning, you know. The way you hardly spoke as we made our way into the swamp, how you grunted just going up the steps of that gross little house, and you sighed when we walked through the mud.” 

You looked away from him, ashamed. This pain, it was a weakness, one that you didn’t want the others to see… And now they all know. The fear of them leaving you behind was festering in the back of your mind. 

“I care for you,” Astarion began, grabbing your attention and forcing you to stare at him with wide eyes. “Probably… more than I should… since you’re keeping secrets from me.” He sighed and reached over, flicking you in the forehead. “So, the next time you’re in pain, just tell me. Please? I’ll carry you on my back if I have to.” 

You snorted. “I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“Nonsense,” he replied and waved you off. “Besides, it would just be another excuse to have you close.” 

“... So, you care about me?” 

Astarion laughed. “Of course I do, but don’t make me confess to you while you’re here lying in agony.” 

You pouted. “Astarion–” 

“Another time,” he whispered and leaned down, giving you a little kiss on your forehead. “I promise.” 

“Fine.” 

“Now that that’s settled,” Astarion held his hands up, wiggling his fingers. “Which foot should I begin my massage on?” 

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Gigi -the unbaked thots:

• Bath •

Summary: I’ve had so many requests for this universe (including a bath time which this includes) and I appreciate all of y’all’s patience. I find this universe the hardest to write for and create entire scenes and fics out of so in order to keep it from dying out I intend to loosen up a little and start throwing out headcanons for y’all to enjoy in the meantime, you can watch for them with this header above. For now enjoy a trash bit of nastiness I wrote in under an hour in the middle of the night last night -kudos to the minxs @eliseinmemphis and @stylespresleyhearted

Warnings: Explicit! 18+ Bath sexy times, grinding, fingering, praying during sex, age gap, slight degradation, voluntarily drinking bath water containing cum. Yup.

Era: September 1977

Well here they are. On the dreaded tour.

But for now -there are bubbles. So many bubbles. And the heavy rumble of the bath’s jets and the golden glow of the dimmed bathroom lights in the hotel suite and the slippery bulk of Elvis as he grumbles beneath Gigi while she writhes amidst the foam of his rinsed shampoo.

“Sloppiest lil rider I ever-“ his face is shining in a heated glow, he is awash in pink cheeked arousal and Gigi persists, wearing herself out for his little gasps and the twitches of an eyebrow here and there. Bouncing adamantly atop his thick thighs in the swirling water and trying her avid best to slip his fat length inside her. She’s been trying since day one and every time it’s

-“not yet, Gigi, not yet, s’posed to be special and you’re special baby girl, not somethin’ to rush with someone special like you, see, I uh, i-i-it’s special-“

Gigi thinks having his rock solid cock inside her would be special enough.

“ ‘member the other night,

daddy?” She asks him in a huff, winded from the exertion as she pins his throbbing length against himself and grinds her clit against the hairs on his rounded belly, full of desperation born of youthful overexubernace, “remember how -how - when you were teasing me -and you pressed against my little hole?”

Elvis lets out a long groan in reply, slapping his hands against the sides of the tub in sexual frustration, causing his rings to clank and his bracelets to jangle against the porcelain. He can feel himself swell even more, the ache in his balls nearly unbearable at the proximity to snug tightness that he’s been denying himself for a myriad of reasons that are making less and less sense now, the more Gigi’s glossy wet tits slap his face silly.

“Oooh, oh I feel you-“ she gasps, as that redundant piece of meat between his thighs gives a hearty little twitch at the memory of her tiny hole and it’s fluttering need.

“You son of a bitch,” Elvis hisses to his traitorous little friend who’s acting very stalwart in his determination to find nothing but a tight cunt sufficient stimulation for release -it was easier back when little Elvis was a limp and useless dong: “this is the one time i’m asking you not to work. C’mon, don’t fail me now I-I- hell… O-o-our father. Who art in heaven-“

Gigi buries her face into the steamy crease where his cheeks meet his throat and licks at the salt there that not even the bath can remove. His hands fly to grip her hips and he yanks her up and down, grinding harshly against her raw little center as her breasts smash against his broad chest.

He regularly complained to the boys about her voraciousness and got no sympathy, not even when they saw it for themselves with the way he could barely get his seat in the limo, have his water handed to him and a towel before she was taking off his belt, unzipping his jumpsuit and inevitably giving lil Elvis some strong mouth suction. The boys had gotten used to ignoring him dumping a load down this little girl’s throat in the blurry blaze of street lamp lit nights and cranking up the radio to hide her moans every jet flight. Nothing about it was fitting and it wasn’t even to his tastes -so Elvis insisted- but it was real nice to be so wanted, even if the voraciousness of it was all a little alarming and out of hand.

Yet, God knows Elvis wanted Gigi badly. It half scared him sometimes and the rest of the time it kept him alive.

As did Lisa in an entirely different way and between the two girls tearing up his sedate plans for self mortification and permanent hermitage, Elvis found some zest for life returning to his soul as August became September and tabloids went from calling Gigi “the new girl” to calling her his whore and the colonel went from not answering his phone to leaving a perpetual red light on the message box and it went from kisses and snuggles in his Graceland bed to frantic grinding like this after every show that had her caterwauling in his arms begging to be torn open by his cock and him grunting like a bear in heat as he spurted against her belly and smashed the button for the tub jets to stop.

Wouldn’t do to circulate superstar spunk in a Cincinnati hotel jacuzzi.

“Mmm, that feel good daddy?” her sweet voice asks as the singing angels dim and the sense of time and space and his spent cock bring him back into consciousness.

“Uhuh. Feels real good.” he admitted sheepishly and felt her plump lips pressing to his bashful grin.

He returns it, pouring his love into her with the cradling of her head in his hands and the flick of his tongue against hers and the languid massaging of lips.

Gigi swirls the milky strands of his spend in the bath water between them, giggly and invigorated. She gets this way after climaxing and Elvis can only blearily smile and indulge the way she drags him around and makes him stand and get out of the tub, how she pats him down with towels like he’s a boy child and chitters to him about backstage gossip, praises for his performance of the night and Tammy’s latest tips for making Jerry’s life a living orgasmic hell. All while pressing kisses to every single part of his body as she goes along.

She’s found goosey places on Elvis that he didn’t even know existed.

Gigi is drying his shoulders when she sees the last remnants of the tub water cycloning in a swirl towards the drain, precious pearly strings cavorting like ribbons in the eddy.

Her conversational chatter ceases abruptly with a regretful -“oh no!“

She drops the sodden towel.

He watches her kneel, crouched and bent and glorious in a soft line of naked beauty from the back. Thought his maidenly idyl is shattered as she faces away from him and in what seems to be an impulsive moment of adoration, Gigi leans over the tub, hard porcelain lip digging into her sternum as she ducks her head and dips her mouth to the tepid bathwater.

He can hear her slurping.

Her graceful bracing in position and the greedy working of her throat suggest competency at this vile practice that makes his stomach lurch and spent cock swell thickly against his thigh. Without autonomy he hears himself grunt appreciatively.

“Fuuuuck me.” he drawls in disbelief, shuffling closer to watch the whole of it, the working of her sweet mouth sucking up his diluted seman and the arch of her back showcasing pink little pussy lips glistening from the back.

It’s sick and he’s terribly in love.

“That’s my good baby girl,” he finds himself praising this heinous degradation, hand coming to rest on the dip of her lower back, “not lettin’ m’lil contrition go to waste.”

It makes her strain to get as deep in the tub as she can, legs taut and face red from the blood rushing downwards to her cheeks as she chases gravity against the flow of the drain, his hand heavy and encouraging as it palms her ass, the pinch of his rings and the grunting, savage, male appreciation for her wantonness making her squeeze her thighs together in hopeless dissatisfaction.

A sting jolts her as his hand collides in an approving slap across her plush backside. The desire to make him proud eggs her on and she crawls further over the ledge, hair dragging in the drain.

Elvis’ hand once groping her butt moves until he’s peeling her apart and sliding in the long lengths of his middle and ring finger into her tight heat, meanly stabbing inside her as she’s bent double, tonguing at the drain for the last of his essence.

“You done this before.” Elvis’ voice is low, without a shred of questioning.

“Yes.” she moans, rosy cheek pressed to the wet floor of the now empty tub. “I always do this when you leave some left over, daddy.”

Elvis watches his fingers sink into pink plushness again and again, rings acting like stoppers at each culmination, spearing her until Gigi is sobbing and spasming over the tub edge, mouth wide open screaming for him with a tongue white from his spend, as broken as he is over the need to fuck her.

Sore and puffy, he assumes he’s learned her a lesson.

Standing her back up tenderly with all gentlemanly grace, Elvis wipes at her slimy cheek with his hands, pleased to find her smile as irrepressible as ever, the only thing on this godforsaken tour that hasn’t disappointed him yet.

“When is soon?” she whines into his kisses as he presses against her, bath quite redundant with the way he has her pinned between the door and his weeping cock, freshly spluttering his devotion against her bare pubic mound like he’s twenty years younger and fit to be such a minx’s lover.

“What?” He questions, murmuring in happy confusion.

“You said you’d make love to me soon.” she insists like a child reminding their senile parent of promises for ice cream after a trip to the dentist. “When is soon?”

Elvis grins through his grunt as he slides against her puffy clit, effortless from her slick and close to coming from images of her drinking his bath- “Soon, little baby,” he pronounces with all the gravity of a wiseman and the authority of a deadly opponent who his hand engulfing her fragile jaw, “-means soon.”

🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷🏷

@parodsal000

@ab4eva

@stylespresleyhearted

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@steph-speaks

@eliseinmemphis

@lookingforrainbows

@dkayfixates

@ellie-24

@memphisflash1935-1977

@marriedtopresley

@powerofelvis

@thatbanditqueen

@elvisabutler

@butlersxbirdy

@heartbrake-hotel

@fav-fanficssss

@austinbutlersbaby

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@father-of-2cats

@helen06dreamer

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@kelssssxd

@octobers-snow

@velvetelvis

@blursedblegh

[anincompletelist]

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | fic rec fridays ]

hi all! :D I have slowly but steadily been knocking things off of my tbr list, a few classics and a few newer fics, and they've been AMAZING! as per usual I wanted to share before the list gets too long for next time!

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

happy new year and happy reading y'all! <3

Have you ever been alone in a crowded room? | @hgejfmw-hgejhsf | T+ | 5k

When the Legendary Balls-Out Bananas White House Trio New Year's Eve Party is interrupted by a security threat, Henry, Pez, Nora, June, and Alex find themselves locked in the White House library for their own protection with nothing but time, a few bottles of champagne, and some lighthearted conversation, until a single question threatens to change everything for Henry.

(+ read their first au fic here ahh!)

muscle memory | @dumbpeachjuice | E | 30k

It's been ten years since Alex was in London to stage a PR friendship with Henry after ruining the royal wedding. It's also been ten years since Alex dropped to his knees in front of Henry in a Kensington Palace kitchen. But now Henry's in the Hamptons for the summer, and who should he bump into? None other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, who happens to be working in New York all summer long.

You Are the Wave I Could Never Tame | bleedingballroomfloor | E | 12k

That should be it. Henry is doing his job; the pool is getting cleaned, and Alex shouldn’t think anything more of it. Then why does he feel the slightest bit of disappointment when he walks back to the pool house and Henry isn’t there? Or, the pool boy Henry AU that I couldn't stop thinking about until I wrote it.

if evil, why so cute? | @everwitch-magiks | E | 5k

Alex’s cat hates Alex, but loves Henry, the Bookstagram influencer who’s on vacation in Alex’s quiet seaside town. And while Alex is pretty salty about his grumpy cat’s inexplicable affection for a complete stranger, he must admit he can see the appeal; Henry is fucking gorgeous. It’s why Alex follows him on Instagram in the first place. It's just, Alex had never thought he’d be officially introduced to Henry by his own goddamn cat. Or: Henry takes a two-week vacation to a seaside cabin with the intent to read a lot of books. Instead, he has a lot of sex.

Just like that | @myheartalivewrites | E | 10k

When Henry comes home from a date frustrated by the guy’s lack of expertise, Alex starts having thoughts. And then, because he’s Alex, he sticks his big foot in his even bigger mouth.

(@myheartalivewrites listen I fell down a rabbit hole ok and if I could rec your entire ao3 here I would -- OH WAIT I CAN)

In His Wildest Dreams | @myheartalivewrites | E | 11k

Set in and around the Henry bonus chapter, this is a story about Henry and Alex’s hectic schedules, family appearances etc. pulling them apart, and about what starts to happen between them, in the quiet of night: their sleeping bodies turning to each other, finding their sweet spots and opening up. And Alex and Henry learning a lot about each other in the process

Be Worthy Love, and Love Will Come | @sparklepocalypse | E | 30k

"For Christmas this year, all I would like is a best friend who doesn’t mind too much that I’m a prince. Most of my classmates poke fun because of who I am, or treat me like I’m too special to be their friend. I want a best friend who knows me as much as my family does and still likes me. I know that you can’t wrap a best friend up in a box and put it under the tree, but you’re magic so you know the best way to bring one." (Movieverse canon divergence; Prince Henry, age 8, writes to Father Christmas wishing for a best friend. A few weeks later, he finds one.)

A Picture on Your Corkboard | bleedingballroomfloor | M | 23k

It happens on a random morning in May when Alex, age fourteen, pads into the kitchen to greet his mother and steal a waffle from June's plate and sees a man sitting at their breakfast counter, reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee raised to his lips. Like he belongs. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. June doesn't seem to give the man a second thought. She merely flicks Alex on the forehead and takes back the waffle. Ellen isn't worrying, either. In fact, she's talking to him. Asking what his schedule is like. Making plans for dinner. Alex has never seen this man before in his life.

I want to mark my skin (it is paper thin) | @violetbaudelaire-quagmire | M | 10k

To: alex@biconicink.com From: hjfox@rocketmail.co.uk Subj: Tattoo Reference Attached: 1 file (orionsketch.jpg) Hello, Attached you’ll find a line art drawing of the constellation Orion. The shoulder blade is the intended location. Best, H.J. Fox [OR: It's a Tattoo Shop AU!]

(Dil)Do It Yourself | @happiness-of-the-pursuit | E | 16k

“Listen,” Nora starts, turning her body once more so that she’s sitting sideways in the chair with her legs thrown across the armrest. “I did the math. There’s a 79% chance you’re gonna become a slut to the power of the prostate, and while we’re not dating anymore, it’s my duty as your fellow slutty bisexual to get this party started.” Or, when Nora drags Alex to a holiday dildo workshop, he doesn’t expect to find someone to use it with.

just a figure of speech | @congee4lunch | E | 17k

“Like I said: Alphas really don’t know how to fuck.” “And like I said,” Alex sets down his mug and steps closer to Henry. “I can fuck and I know how to fuck you so well, you’ll see stars, baby.” [henry, an omega, hasn’t had good sex in a long time. as his alpha roommate and friend, alex can help with that. in a totally platonic bro way, of course]

+

saving some for next rec, I'll see you all then! enjoy, and remember to show support if you did! <3

xx

[yup-thats-me]

kitten love • kudo. k

a/n: hello! long time no see. I've been so stressed due to my studies and couldn't manage time to write in here. hopefully, I'm back. I've lost the habit of writing, so it might be a bit rough. but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! lowercase intended.

prairing: finacé!Kudo Kiyoka x shy!fiancé!reader. from "my blissfull marriage"

warning: none.

synopsis: Kudo brings home a kitten for his darling wife-to-be 🩷

meow

the call was so feeble, almost as if it wasn't there. but thanks to Kiyoka's heightened senses, he was able to tell where it came from. walking behind the building, Kiyoka saw a black and white kitten, not bigger than his palm, curled up in a small ball.

he reached down gently stroking the animal. the kitten nuzzled closer to the warmth, purring contently.

"are you separated from your mother, kitty?" Kiyo asked softly although he knew it obviously cannot answer his question.

he continued petting the cat as he thought about what he should do. he cannot leave this small kitten here for the night. it will take mere minutes for wild dogs to tear the animal apart. too small and weak to defend itself.

suddenly he remembered a conversation that took place between him and his fiancé y/n.

the two were out, to run some errands. a date if you will. Kiyoka had left y/n only for a minute to grab one of his work papers. when he came back, y/n was not there where she was supposed to be. getting concerned about his fiancé, Kiyo ran around the alleys to find her. he found y/n a bit later, crounched down beside a vending machine, petting a stray cat.

"y/n! I told you not to go anywhere," Kiyo gasped standing beside her. "Oh. I'm so sorry, Kudo-sama. this cat was nuzzling my leg. I couldn't resist not to pet it. but it got away and hid behind this vending machine so I followed." She said with her head low. "I'm sorry to worry you, Kudo-sama. please forgive me."

Kudo smiled softly, petting her head. "do not apologise, y/n. I'm not angry. just worried about you." He said. "just don't go anywhere without telling me from next time, okay?" He asked to which his fiancé nodded.

"you like cats, y/n?" Kiyo asked her as they drove back home. y/n nodded softly. "Yes. I do like them. is there any problem with it, Kudo-sama? are you perhaps allergic to cats?" her question made Kiyo chuckle softly.

"no. no, dear. I'm just curious" He smiled. "Oh. okay then," y/n blushed.

♡♡♡

y/n liking cats is something that has been on his mind ever since that day. he knew y/n would be overjoyed to get a new pet. it'd keep where from getting from at home.

so Kiyo picked up the kitten gently, carried him to the care, and drove home with the kitten in his lap. when he entered the house, y/n was there at the door as always, waiting for her fiancé to arrive.

"welcome back, Kudo-sama," she said, smiling softly. for some reason, seeing y/n smile always made Kiyo blush. "uh...good evening, y/n" he replied, almost stuttering.

meow

y/n looked at her soon-to-be husband confused. getting out of his trance, Kiyo quickly showed the kitten to y/n, which he had covered with his handkerchief to provide some warmth.

seeing the little creature in Kiyo's hand, couldn't help herself but reach her hand towards the kitten in Kudo's hand. realising her mistake she quickly withdrew her hand. "excuse me for my immature behaviour, Kudo-sama." she spoke quietly with her head low. Kiyo sighed. "How many times do I have to talk you not to apologise for everything, dear? l don't mind. here" He said passing the kitten to her, "you can pet it all you want. I brought it home for you."

y/n bowed, caressing the cat. she smiled to herself as she felt the silk-soft fur of the kitten. as Kiyo watched his fiancé smile, he knew he had made the right decision bringing the cat home.

"you can keep the kitten on a blanket while we have our dinner, y/n," Kiyo said as he went to take a bath. "Yes!" She replied.

after the two had their dinner, they sat as y/n brushed out Kiyo's wet hair. "have you thought of a name for the kitten yet, y/n?"

"um...i'm thinking Etsu (delight) .?" She said softly. "what do you think, Kudo-sama?"

"Etsu. it's a nice name. Y/n. I think it suits him."

Kiyo looked at the mirror as she combed his hair. a smile gracing her lips. the sight made Kiyo's heart flutter. all he wanted to do was to make y/n smile for the rest of his life. he knew, all he needed to continue living was her smile. he'll always make y/n smile. he'll always love her. it's a promise he made to himself. and he was a man to forever abide by his promises.

[suzukiblu]

So question for you as an author, if someone rereads your fics (showing up under different tag searches, checking reference for art, etc), is it weird/creepy to leave multiple comments on the same work when it hasn't been updated, or nice to have comments from people seeing new things they hadn't before, or some third other thing (I'm very possibly overthinking this)?

Personally I'm all for it, I think it's flattering! I've got at least one regular reader who has a habit of leaving comments that just say things like "re-read kudos!" when they go through my older fics again, and I think that's really cute. And it's nice to know people are re-visiting my older stuff and didn't just forget it all existed in favor of wanting new and shiny things, too. Like it's validating, you know? So really I always extra-appreciate the "I have read this before AND I'LL READ IT AGAIN"-type comments, hahaha.

Also ngl, sometimes those bonus comments remind me "shit that was so good, why haven't I updated it/written that sequel idea I had for it yet??" Like I am HIGHLY motivated by engagement as an author, that shit is my bread and butter. I actually specifically decided to go back and finish my longest fic ever because someone who was re-reading it commented on it, like, two years after I'd last updated it with a really lovely and thoughtful comment that just filled me with determination and reminded me why I'd wanted to finish it in the first place. Literally I resolved myself to re-engage with a very long fic and write like another ninety THOUSAND words for it SPECIFICALLY because of one single re-read comment. Like, there were definitely other factors involved in the actual finishing process, but that comment was definitely the thing that got the ball rolling to begin with.

So tl;dr my answer is: "secret third thing: likely to increase productivity and quite possibly will score you an update sooner!"

[blackandwhiteandrose]

Writing fanfic can be a lot like trying to make a recipe that you’ve seen all over social media. Sometimes, you try it and you kill it. Other times, not so much.

You see everyone is raving about how good this recipe is and how much they love this one particular ingredient (we’ll say cheese) that just really makes it amazing. So you think, I can do that, I’m great with cheese!

So, you start cooking. You measure everything just so. You even go a little hard on the cheese because, cheese. You are super proud of your dish. It looks delicious. You think it’s all kinds of tasty. It is, perhaps, the best thing you’ve ever made. You can’t wait to share it with everyone, because c’mon, everyone is raving about this thing and here it is! You made it! And it’s gonna be awesome.

You take it to a potluck with your friends and some people you don’t know. Your friends are like, yeah, this is great! Maybe a couple of people grab a bite, and one of them even tells you it’s pretty good. But there you are, at the end of the night, with your casserole dish still basically full and you’re wondering, what happened? You did everything right, so why didn’t everyone go crazy for it?

Posting a fic is very similar. You see the things people seem to love (a particular trope, for instance) and you give it a try. You think you’ve got all the elements and you put it together perfectly and you put it out there. And then you don’t get the response you were hoping for or expecting. But you used (1) one beloved trope + (2) two characters + a dash of canon + witty banter! Maybe you even sprinkled in a liberal helping of a fandom favorite dynamic. What happened?

Honestly, it’s kind of devastating when a fic flops. You wonder what you did wrong. What did you miss? You’ve seen other people do it and readers just ate it up, so it must be you, right? Are you not a good cook (writer)? Are people tired of trying your dishes (reading your fics)?

Yes, you should always cook (write) for yourself first. But when you decide to share something with other people who have similar tastes/interests, that’s an act of bravery. You’re putting yourself in a vulnerable position by putting this little piece of your heart, of something you love, out for people to see. Of course you want them to like it. You want them to think it’s a tasty treat (whether it be for your tastebuds or eyeballs). You want that pat on the back (kudo). It’s not greedy or inappropriate to crave validation and support.

Writing is a creative, personal process. A lot of writers are frothy little balls of anxiety.

If you’re a fan of someone or their work, let them know. Yes, comments are like crack and everyone wants them, but an emoji or a kudo is extremely gratifying as well. Reblog the snippets you enjoy.  As a fan of something showing the creators you appreciate the time and effort and parts of their heart that they put into what they do matters so, so much.

[morningberriesao3]

Guys,

I just hit HALF A MILLION WORDS published on my AO3. It feels surreal?!?!?!? that I wrote that many words, and also a huge accomplishment as someone who picks up hobbies and abandons them before seeing them through LOL

Anyway, huge shoutout to everyone who reads my work, especially those who leave kudos and comments, and those who like and reblog here on tumblr, too. I’ve made a lot of friendships bc of this fandom and fic writing, and it’s been such a fulfilling hobby to fill my free time. (End Oscars speech)

Anyway, below the cut is an excerpt from my most recent fic, Love the Way It Hurts So Deep which is a part 2 to Hate the Way It Feels So Good. I mean, I posted it as a second chapter instead of it’s own fic, but it’s 17K words and was supposed to stand alone initially.

CW: enemies to lovers but they’re ACTUALLY enemies, a lot of dub con content even though i promise they both want what’s happening more than anything, violence, spit kinks, maybe even blood kinks?!?!? idk just think of all the sadist and masochist shit and stuff it into this fic and that’s what it is.

18+ only

For the hundredth time tonight, Eddie trails his eyes over Steve in appreciation. But his soul is shining through his irises again, and there’s something else hiding inside of him that Steve can’t put his finger on. “You gonna tell me who put their hands on you now?”

“No.” Steve shakes out his fuzzy head, tries to push through the fog inside of it. “I mean, you don’t know them. Seriously.”

“Them?”

Steve stares into Eddie’s face as his features crumple within it. A million different emotions flutter on it, but it ultimately lands on something that looks like outrage.

“They won’t bother me again,” Steve says, because he has the urge to calm Eddie down. Make him feel better—even though he wasn’t the one who was tortured in a secret Russian base. His words seem to work, just a little, as Eddie bites back whatever it was he was going to say, and starts to pull his boxers back off. “Why? Are you jealous?”

Steve snaps his lips shut a little too late, the question falling out of him before he has the chance to realize he doesn’t really want to ask it.

Eddie pauses for a few long seconds, his boxers shoved halfway down his thighs. His eyes tick up to Steve’s, rimmed in wide white, making them seem too large for his face. “Yes, Steve, I’m jealous.”

It sounds like sarcasm.

He kicks off his shorts, his hands rubbing the tight skin under his navel, then the patch of hair that Steve wants to bury himself in, then down to his balls. His fingers wrap around them, give them a tug.

Steve stares unabashed—he figures Eddie’s doing it for his sake, anyway. Touching himself—putting himself on display—so he can watch the way Steve turns dumb and the way his cock leaks against his abdomen. Proof that he’s too wildly affected by just Eddie’s presence, just the visuals, just the thought of their bodies rolling together.

His lips get loose again, like the Truth Serum is back in his system. “Because you care about me?”

The muscles feather on Eddie’s jawline. He slowly crawls onto the bed, between Steve’s legs. He hovers there, not quite low enough for their bodies to touch the way Steve wants, but his hair fans around the sides of Steve’s face as he cranes his neck down.

“Because I fucking hate you.” Eddie’s hand is suddenly around Steve’s neck, squeezing against his airways tight enough that Steve’s grip flounders against the blankets, enough that he gasps in shock, but also for the air that is evading him. “You made my life a living hell, Harrington. I’m jealous because I should have been the one to make you bleed.”

[olderthannetfic]

I think something just clicked for me about the whole Anti vs. Proship debacle.

Both sides view "media consumption" as an expression. Antis say that reading or watching or playing something is an expression of a person's innate moral compass. According to them, when you read Black Butler fanfic you are expressing your approval of child being in a romantic relationship with a demon in real life.

And proshippers rebutt that with the fact that reading, watching, and playing things is an expression of your trauma or sexuality. They get a lot more nuanced, but to them if you read Black Butler fanfic, you're expressing your own anxieties about or experiences with a type of relationshp that you know is wrong in real life, or maybe you're expressing that you think it's kinda hot in fiction (but mostly the trauma, they're *really* keen on trauma as a an excuse for liking things).

But I don't consider being a passive audience member as an expression. Writing fic or drawing fan art is an expression of what I think is hot or interesting in canon, kicking headcanons back and forth on Tumblr is an expression of how I feel and think about canon, sharing recs is an expression of what I like and what I think my friends will like, leaving comments on a fic is how I express my thoughts to the author, even a kudos or Tumblr like is an expression of the fact that I appreciated something. But simply reading fic is not how I express anything. The bare fact that I enjoyed a fic or canon is not a social interaction or an expression of any kind.

Having thoughts or feelings about what I read and watch and play is not how I express things about myself, I have to share those thoughts on Tumblr or through fanworks to express them.

And thoughts and feelings shouldn't be counted as expressions of something deeper. Your thoughts and tastes are the things you express (if you choose to), they are not themselves public expressions of deeper traumas or moralities. No one knows what you're thinking unless you tell them, and going through life as if everyone can read your mind is a pretty horrible way to live.

--

Eh. A lot of the "proship" side just thinks antis are idiots, not that anything is necessarily about your sexuality or trauma. Those are just things you say to rebut "You have no right to like this" if you don't have the balls to say "I do what I want!"

[1dcommunityficrecs]

Space Fic Rec

As we sit upon a rock spinning at 1000km/hr, and hurtling through the cold, empty universe at 100,000km/hr, illuminated only by a giant ball of gas and nuclear fusion 150,000,000km away from us that keeps us gravitationally locked in its orbit... I bring you six space fics! Cause space is cool as heck! Even if it's a little terrifying!

Take a look through, and if any catch your fancy then drop a kudos or a comment or a reblog -- your friendly neighbourhood fic writer appreciates it!

The Stars Look Very Different Today by kingsofeverything (43032, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

For Harry Styles, child genius turned glorified spaceship mechanic, rescuing lost or broken down ships is a fairly common occurrence. There’s nothing common about his latest mission, the ship, or that ship’s captain. The last thing he expects to find in a distant galaxy is the one thing he’s been missing on Earth.

Reccer says: I think the future world-building is incredible!

ghost of you by beckywritesthings (109111, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

a Star Wars AU where Harry is Obi-Wan, Louis is Satine, and somehow there’s a love story between the cracks where there shouldn’t be

Reccer says: An incredibly written, epic royal space fic! Even if you've never seen Star Wars, you'll fall in love with these characters. And if you have seen Star Wars, you'll be amazed by how this writer plotted this story!

foothold by turnyourankle (18358, Mature, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Louis has crossed the galaxy with a ship full of crystals; they’re the only thing he has to offer in exchange for safe harbor. He thought getting to his destination would be the hardest part, hoping that once he got his family to safety everything would fall back into place; Louis struggles to adapt while his sisters thrive.

Reccer says: Such atmospheric, visual writing that was used to create such an interesting world! The characters are so complex and have inner demons that eventually reveal themselves.

Don't bring the Starbucks by LadyLondonderry (4814, Teen, Niall Horan/Rory McIlroy) – fic post Warnings: Minor character death (but as the author says, it's no one you like)

The one where Niall is a perfectly normal university student, until he finds himself an ocean away in the middle of Ohio with a strange man telling him to stop wandering off. Then he’s in space. It’s a whole thing.

Reccer says: Emmu's fics are always their own special brand of charming and this fic is no exception. It's so delightful and odd and it makes me so happy.

in other words by sarcangel (3758, General, Niall Horan/Louis Tomlinson) Warnings: mentions of past injuries leading to prosthetics

Niall works on a space cruise line, dancing with passengers, but the person he most wants to dance with is the captain.

Reccer says: A really fascinating worldbuilding (is it still called worldbuilding if it's in space? XD) I feel like we know so much about the background of these characters and this universe, even in only a few thousand words.

Breaking Through the Atmosphere by dinosaursmate (40416, Explicit, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson) – fic post

Louis is recruiting folks to colonize a new planet; Harry is the sweet, homesick painter/veterinarian he recruits.

Reccer says: Brilliant descriptions of what their life is like on another planet! And such a gentle, slow burn into realizing that you’ve fallen in love.

[andraxicated]

what do we have in common? we're reliable with the ladies!

Pairings: childe, itto, kaeya, ayato x f! reader (it's them four who else would it be?)

Synopsis: rich playboy genshin men hcs!

Tags: fluff | rich douchebags | degradation | suggestive | profane language |

a/n: this prompt ( A WINTER'S BALL—HAMILTON) sounded so wonderful in my head but I can't seem to write shit for it. had to redo the whole idea...

milestone event masterlist!

Childe

he is the king of banger parties; you attend it and you'd find yourself together with the noise and adrenaline. when you're there, be prepared for the loud splash coming from up above: it's childe diving into the pool for you to be amazed. kudos to his risky effort to win your heart but you weren't that easy to please.

well, his hair pushed back and abs glistening with water is a treat to the ladies' eyes. (yours too)

he'd have his siblings lead you to a private part of the mansion, away from the noise and drunkards. you'd both find yourself meeting in quite a romantic setting, a jacuzzi between you two and childe acting surprised like "wow, never expected to meet you here".

it ends up with you dipping in the tub with him at a safe distance in case he tries something funny. but the only thing he does funny is making you laugh as you sip on your champagne, telling stories and clearing up rumors of himself in the process.

"how many girls have you led into this backyard?" you ask with a playful smile

"one. they never went past the party area." childe says as he takes a swig of fire-water while nervously peeking for your expression.

"really?" "yeah, although that one is a little tough to break" he says as he puts down the glass on a table and inches closer to you. the hot water and the heating atmosphere sets the mood for what's about to happen that night. all planned by this clever fox who had a fair experience with these kinds of situations.

"I'm pretty sure she'd let you break her" you whisper seductively to his ear, snapping all of childe's self-control and patience. he harshly grabs you by the nape and crashes your lips together. not bothering to ask access for your tongue, he just pushes it in and ravages your mouth.

his hands fiddle with the strap of your bikini top and pushes it down past your arms. you part lips with him to catch your breath, but this man is insatiable as he attaches himself immediately to the top of your breasts.

"parading around in skimpy bikinis every time we party but dressing modestly when you're with your family..." he chuckles and looks up to you.

"stop acting like a good girl" childe provokes with a scowl on his face and bites down your skin, hand covering your lips to keep your slutty mouth shut.

Kaeya

the one which daughters of high society label as a "manwhore": kaeya alberich.

they'd talk shit about him after getting a fill of his dick, crying and dirtying his name when he kicks them out of his penthouse. at this point, his reputation was as dirty as the names he calls them in bed. kaeya thinks they should've been at least thankful after spending the night with him.

if you get entangled with him, the relationship he could give you is as far as a fuck buddy because kaeya doesn't keep girlfriends. and you're fine with that, you just needed a casual thing and test out the rumors of how good this guy can be.

he's soon got your arms together behind your back, tanned fingers inside your mouth, tears running down your cheek as you face the clouds and feel him thrusting inside. congratulations, you're now both a member of the mile high club!

"mhm? it hurts?" kaeya's feather-light touches land on the sides of your body making you squirm in his embrace. "don't even try to make a sound" he dangerously remarks as he pushes in further.

fucking 35,00 feet up in the air in first class was a cross mark on the sex bucket list you made with him. those secret rendezvous are nice and mind-blowing but kaeya finds himself craving for something more, something different, and something real.

so when he asks you to stay the night, you can't help but stop dressing and just sit down beside him on his bed.

"what is it?" you ask as you snuggle back into the comforter.

"how do you feel about going back home with me?" kaeya's voice cracked midway that you giggled at him so cutely, sad that he can't focus on that because he's too nervous about your answer.

"what do you mean back home?" "you know...our winery at the countryside. there's unlimited wine, isn't that fun?" the last of his confidence attempts to entice you while his fingers gently pulls your chin.

your mind blanks for a second until you realize he wants to take you home to see his family. 'oh'. the world spins as your heart clenches strongly; he's never done anything like this. it's just you, only you.

and he really knows how to make a woman feel special huh.

"cool" "cool?" kaeya hums, puzzled by your response. "it's cool to breathe in the fresh air of the countryside. besides, I'd like to meet your father and your brother too." your wide-eyed self replies to him with a smile, one that made kaeya stop breathing. he kisses the top of your head while jokingly saying: "I'll show you who's the better brother" and you shove him away in a fit of giggles. you certainly have your own reserves about him but it suddenly didn't matter when you let your guard down and fell asleep to his scalp massage.

if someone saw kaeya's face that night, they would immediately run to their phone and proclaim the playboy is in love.

Itto

this one is a huge blockhead and dates women just because they're fun to be with, everyone is his buddy. as soon as itto sits on a chair, girls in bodycon dresses would come flocking to him, desperately squeezing themselves in whatever space is available.

you'd be watching the spectacle from across the room, turning around when the sight gets uncomfortable to watch; only to let yourself fall prey to itto's hungry eyes.

he's feasting on your backless dress, red eyes trailing down the curves of your body; wondering how good it would look on top of him with his large hands crushing your hips.

every party, every occasion he would attend is all the same: all eyes on Itto but he's looking at you.

of course, you'd start to feel the burn of his gaze, and when you turn around to find the source, you'd see his legs spread and eyes dark with desire.

you know that look, after all you've seen it directed towards you a hundred times. and so you'd form some kind of telepathy with him. going out the door and leaning against the club building to wait for this idiotic man. if he didn't get that, well fuck him and his stupid brain.

itto would go after you like a dog, standing up and shoving whoever stands in his way, mind going delirious if he ever fucking lost you.

"stop right there" he looks down to see a ysl stiletto stopping in his tracks, he traces the feet to the legs to the body and to the face. there he finds you tilting your head playfully; his unbuttoned shirt, lipstick marks on his collar, and the strong smell of women's perfume were all on blatant display.

"you look like you'd just got out of a dangerous situation" your voice takes a playful lilt as you step forward to initiate. itto then would stare at you and realize what the hell is going on.

dude makes a complete 180-degree change while you see a flush covering his cheek, mouth stammering and eyes staring blankly into your soul. he would be so confident in front of many people but it all shrinks down when he's all alone with a woman. they make him nervous :((

"so...what did you want to do?" itto asks as he sheepishly scratches his head and chuckles as you stand there flabbergasted.

needless to say, it was the worst first meeting ever and completely destroyed on how you perceived him. prepare to suddenly get invited to a ryokan or dinner as a token of apology from this nervous mess of a man.

itto doesn't care about rules or shit, he even once had a delinquent era back at his schooldays. who takes a girl home on the first date? arataki fucking itto. (he definitely got a confidence pep talk from his gang)

and he'd have you a crying mess by the end of the night, passed out soundly at the crack of dawn and legs hurting as he greets you in the kitchen with a round two of yesterday night.

Ayato

you've probably seen him before, Kamisato Ayato who got featured in Time magazine as a 'next generation leader'. after all, he's the one who cleverly saved his family company after his father's sudden passing.

he's young and has already built a name for himself in the world. mature, rich, respectful, handsome...he's everything you're looking for in a man.

you won't see him at pool parties or nightclubs, but in luxurious restaurants and hotels where he often holds meetings with fellow business partners.

as the sole heiress of your father's company, you need a suitable husband that has some value for you to use. your secretary hands a portfolio of suitable men that may fit your standard but oh how they get filtered out so quickly. one of your father's main concern is how no man will ever meet your sky high standard. he's distressed that his lovely daughter will end up alone and get eaten by cunning businessmen while she has no one to back her when he's gone.

the heavens have answered your father's prayer as you stop take a look at ayato's profile instead of chucking it to the bin.

"have you found the candidate miss?" your secretary asks in a hopeful tone. "hmmm, he's actually okay but we don't know anything about him so we need to be careful. he might steal the company under my nose when we get married." you say as you and your secretary shiver at the thought. nonetheless, you ask her to investigate him and get an opportunity for dinner.

turns out, ayato's private affairs are mostly a secret thanks to his capable retainers. but as a young adult, he didn't escape the media as he used to party so fucking hard and kept flings left and right until it was time to grow up.

you kept that information in mind as you sit across him in a private setting of a dinner. why does this feel so awkward? you've passed by each other on numerous occasions before but neither pays any mind to the other. well, that's what you thought but ayato has had his eyes on you ever since he saw you at your social debut, precisely his father's birthday party. both of you were young back then so he didn't dare pursue this cute girl he saw. it was a nice fleeting dream to be in love with you though.

so imagine ayato's delight to converse with you years later, revel in your beauty and the elegance you hold. he was such a nice man to be around, you thought it would be a stuffy atmosphere but he actually made you feel at ease!

gone was the gentleman ayato when he manhandles you to the bed and traps you with his strong body. heat rushing down quickly to your core as his lips tickle between your breasts, slithering to your clenching tummy and down to your throbbing entrance.

"didn’t your father say that he wanted a grandchild as soon as possible?" ayato asks out of the blue as he comes back to hover above you. " wha—ahh!" you couldn't even answer when you moan automatically from his teasing fingers. tears prickle your eyes when he grips your boob harshly, along with his teeth biting the soft flesh of your ear.

"maybe we'll give him a present soon. so allow me to finish inside you." ayato whispers in a low voice as he inserts his long finger inside your entrance. your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he perfectly hits the spot that makes you squirm.

all the good things said about ayato was completely erased from your mind as he devilishly shows you his expertise when he fucks you against the window, overlooking a gorgeous view of the city lights.

men with experience are different indeed.

ugh finally done. I was so scared because I had writers block ><

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in July 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #52 |  ko-fi | fic recs

—Louis/Harry—

🦩 7 Up by @cherrystreet

(E, 52k, childhood friends) Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years.

🦩Darkest Before the Dawn by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(E, 50k, fashion au) Everything has a place and it must be in its place in order for him to get anything done. Which is why he grits his teeth every time when he walks into the fashion workroom and sees Louis Tomlinson’s workspace.

🦩 an ocean in my veins (you'll be diving in) by me_her_themoon / @dreamersdivin-headfirst

(E, 31k, uni au) harry and louis hate each other and niall just wants everyone to get along

🦩 When Love Takes Time by sitandadmire / @niallziam

(M, 26k, friends to lovers) Turns out Louis planned a cruise to Hawaii, just for the two of them. The problem? They've been best friends for years, and Marcel is secretly in love with him.

🦩 'cause I want you (for the worse and for the better) by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

(NR, 26k, a/b/o) When Louis gets invited along to Anne's wedding, Harry is prepared to let people think whatever they want about their relationship. That's what Louis said -- let people think whatever they want. 

🦩 what's left of my halo's black by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(E, 22k, fwb) A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for.

🦩 taken by lust’s strange inhumanity by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry

(E, 20k, a/b/o) The one with all the jealous snarling, awkward first kisses and one unforgettable night.

🦩 Trapezing Secret by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 10k, a/b/o) What will happen when your lazy coworker slash biggest knothead you know discovers your secret? Omega Harry doesn't get the time to ponder his answer.

🦩 The Way to My Heart by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 6k, a/b/o) Louis' having a bit of a dry spell, until he bumps into an attractive alpha in the supermarket and leaves with his number. It was a hard bump. Very... muscular. The only problem is, said alpha asks Louis to cook for him - which is not exactly his skill set.

🦩 Truth or Drink by @kingsofeverything

(M, 6k, exes to lovers) Harry and Louis broke up years ago, and they're seeing each other again for the first time to play Truth or Drink. On camera.

🦩 On That Note by @allwaswell16

(E, 6k, a/b/o) Louis’ office job on an omega only floor would be absolutely fine, if not for the alphas he and his friends have to deal with in the building.

🦩 Write You A Song by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(G, 5k, neighbors) Harry’s new flat is great but the acoustics are even better. They’re so good in fact that his daily shower concerts start to entertain an audience besides his shampoo bottle.

🦩 Livin' In A Daydream by @lululawrence

(NR, 3k, roommates) Harry originally had thought that the sock he had pulled out was just another one of Louis’ sport socks he left balled up, but when Harry pulled the cuff out, he realized the actual sole of the sock felt… crusty.

🦩 In Time by @allwaswell16

(M, 2k, timestamp) Harry's uncertainty about their relationship began before he ever stepped foot on the plane to Amsterdam. A prequel/timestamp to the fic Bitter Ends Turn Sweet

🦩 Fingertips Putting on a Show by cherrylarry / @beelou

(E, 2k, girl direction) Harry just wants a relaxing self love session in the bathtub when she gets interrupted by a knock on her door.

🦩 Harry, That Kills People by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 2k, organized crime) If there’s one thing that Harry hates, it’s getting his clothes dirty. If there’s one other thing that Harry hates, it’s murder.

🦩 Yours and Mine by @allwaswell16

(T, 1k, timestamp) Louis goes to the library with his favourite people, his boyfriend Harry and his son, Max. A Bitter Ends Turn Sweet timestamp

🦩 seven, seven by @nouies

(NR, 1k, a/b/o) “Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”

🦩 Completely Oblivious by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(G, 1k, friends to lovers) an interaction with a stranger helps these two finally figure their shit out.

🦩 I'll Get You Through by @hellolovers13

(G, 1k, friendship) Louis will always pick up when Harry calls. Always.

🦩 A Cure for First Show Nerves by @haztobegood

(E, 776 words, canon) Harry calls before Louis' first show.

—Rare Pairs—

🦩 if you want it you can have it by eynap / @panye

(E, 5k, Niall/Shawn Mendes) Niall and Shawn have a drunken one-night stand that turns into more than a few surprises.

🦩 a life that's lived without you by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(T, 1k, Zayn/Liam) In all of his 116 years, Zayn has never quite felt this way about anyone. Liam is so incredibly human, in the worst and best ways. 

[meowmeowriley]

Oh, Brother has officially passed 1,000 Kudos on Ao3!

I know that doesn't make it the most insanely popular fic ever, but that's a number I never thought I'd hit. Prior to posting on Ao3, I'd been told to give up on writing, that I wasn't any good. (By a family member, no less) The outpouring of support here and on Ao3 has absolutely made me the happiest I've been in a while, so thank you all!

The downside is, I'm super proud of what we've done here with this fic, but when I talk about it irl, I have to tell people my username. I almost wish I'd have thought a little more about the implications of calling myself meowmeowriley and how cringe it is to say out loud 😬 Whoops. Oh well! Fuck it, we ball!

Thanks again everybody!